Unconventional Doll
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: A long-forgotten piece of Leslie's childhood helps her come to terms with a significant date.  Follows 'Be My Valentine'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _This story revolves around another of my interests. Even if you're not old enough to remember the doll in this story, it should be noted that she really did exist at one time, and she is part of my fondest memories. I couldn't resist writing a story that incorporated her. This one's shorter than my usual fare. The next story will probably be another flashback collection, once I find a theme. Meantime, enjoy!

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§ § § - March 22, 2007

It was one of those flawless days that so characterized life on the island, sunny and balmy with just a hint of perfumed breeze, but Leslie was working, since it was a Thursday and another weekend was approaching. Stepping into the pool area, she shrugged off her black-trimmed white jacket and slung it over one shoulder, casually clutching it in place with a thumb and forefinger, while meandering along the poolside, glancing occasionally at the occupants playing merrily within. Squeals and shouts filled the air, backdropped by frequent splashing and the occasional report from the reverberating diving board as an eager swimmer took a header off the end. Not till a wayward splash sent water sailing through the air to leave a large wet spot on one pants leg did she pause to really take a look at who was in the pool, and then she muttered an annoyed curse to herself, trying to wring out the moisture, with little success.

"Whoa, that was a potent one," observed a teasing voice from nearby, and her attention was diverted from the kids in the pool to the surprise sight of several of her friends sitting around a table, enjoying drinks. It was Myeko who had spoken. "Was it that bad?"

"I didn't exactly come here to swim," Leslie grumbled, ambling over to the table and, after a moment's hesitation, giving in and taking a chair they offered her. "Really, this has been the crummiest day."

Myeko, Camille, Maureen and Tabitha peered curiously out from under the umbrella beneath which they sat. "Looks nice enough to me," Maureen commented.

Leslie threw one reflexive glance at the sky, split in two by a contrail drifting some four miles above them, then made an impatient face and shook her head. "No, not the weather," she said. "This would have been my mother's seventy-fifth birthday."

"Oh," her friends murmured, glancing at one another.

"You've gotten through your mom's birthdays in the past without saying anything about it," Camille noted. "What's so special about this year?"

Leslie made a face. "Oh, I don't know, maybe I'm just feeling nostalgic for no good reason. It's probably got something to do with that convention that's going to be here next weekend. That, and the fact that for some reason your brother was playing a 70s medley on the radio this morning."

"What convention is that?" Tabitha asked.

"A Dawn-doll convention," Leslie replied, almost wistfully.

"A what?" Camille's voice was blank.

Myeko had brightened. "No kidding! I didn't even know they _had_ Dawn-doll conventions! Geez, I better make sure I can get there!"

Camille was staring at her in disbelief. "You mean you're actually interested in this thing? I never thought you were somebody who played with dolls. You used to turn up your nose at the whole idea whenever Michiko invited us over to play Barbies."

"That's because I don't like Barbie and never did. Barbie's a bimbo, I don't care how many freaking careers she's had. Naaah, I was a Dawn fan then and I'm a Dawn fan now. I mean, seriously—where d'you think I got my daughter's name?"

"You named the kid after a _doll?_ Does Nick know that?"

"Does he have to? He liked the name, and that was good enough for me. I just didn't tell him where I got it. You can't tell me you don't remember any of this."

"Well, I don't. The only other ones who can verify it are Lauren and Michiko, and they're not here. Don't tell me you had this secret Dawn-doll stash when you were a kid."

"I not only did, I still do. I had six dolls as a kid and I've still got them. I think they're tucked up in the attic somewhere, I'll have to go look for them. Hey, Leslie, what do I have to do to get admittance to this convention?"

"Who's holding it?" broke in Maureen. "That's what I'd like to know."

"Remember Diane Kezanian?" Leslie said. "She graduated with us and was one of the kids from Coral Island. She married Bobby Waialoka."

Her friends recognized that name, too. Tabitha gasped. "Not that guy whose fishing boat went down in that hurricane that hit Christmas Island all those years ago."

"We graduated with him too, didn't we?" Maureen asked.

"Yeah, that's right. They'd been married barely three years, but that was long enough for her to have his daughter. Anyway, Diane came to Father and me earlier this month and asked if it would be possible to use the old opera house to host a Dawn-doll convention. I'd never known about these conventions either, but apparently there are Dawn collectors out there, and every year there's one somewhere in the States. The same thing happens in England, she said, with a doll named Pippa—Diane says Pippa is England's version of Dawn. The gatherings are never very big, maybe three dozen people or so at the most, and they last only a day. But according to Diane, they're a lot of fun and everybody has a great time."

"So what do these dolls look like, anyway?" Camille asked.

"They're sort of Barbie-ish," Myeko said, "but they're prettier, if you ask me. They're fashion dolls, but they're only six and a half inches tall. Dawn had a whole bunch of friends and some guy pals too. It's awful, I can't even remember which ones I've got. I have to get into the attic and look around for the box they're in."

"I'll check with Diane for you if you want, and see if you can go," Leslie offered. "I'm told that usually a convention will register a certain number of attendees, and once the limit's been reached, that's it and nobody else can get in. But Diane's trying to keep hers a little more open. I guess there aren't too many people coming."

"I'm not surprised. I never heard of Dawn," Tabitha remarked.

"That's because she came out for only three years back in the early 70s," Myeko explained. "The company that manufactured her went belly-up in '73, and that was the end of her. I didn't understand that at the time, and I spent most of the rest of the 70s looking for Dawn dolls every time we went to a toy store. I still miss 'em. Gee, Leslie, you just made my day—thanks for reminding me of mine."

Leslie cracked a smile for the first time that day. "It's amazing, we've been friends all these years and yet I never knew that about you."

Myeko grinned. "Hey, we all have our dirty little secrets, don't we?"

"Seems so," Camille commented dryly. "Met you in first grade, and I didn't know about your Dawn fetish either."

"You know," Leslie mused, reminded very much out of nowhere, "now that I think of it, I had two Dawn dolls myself. I don't know what happened to them, though. Probably they were destroyed in the Susanville fire." She let her gaze drift out of focus, trying to recall the dolls and the times she had played with them as a child. Unfortunately, she could no longer remember when or where she might have put them away for the last time.

Myeko seemed to sense her mood and tapped her wrist, making her look up in surprise. "Can you come to my place and help me look for my dolls? Maybe you'll remember which ones you had, once we find mine. I know you're working, but it's not the weekend, so maybe Mr. Roarke won't mind if you take a little time off."

"I'll check with him," Leslie agreed, very much caught up in her friend's enthusiasm. "I'm not really doing very much anyway, just checking with everybody to make sure whatever's supposed to be in by now is in. I can do the rest of my rounds after lunch."

"Lunch is on me," Myeko promptly offered. "Anybody else want to help?"

Tabitha smiled. "I'd like to, but I have children to feed, including a newborn. I hope you find your dolls, though."

"Yeah, I've gotta get my kids out of the pool and home," Camille agreed. "We've been here since breakfast. I tell you what, I'm glad spring break'll be over soon. It's been just about the longest week this year so far. The boys have done nothing but complain about how bored they are and how there's nothing to do."

Maureen laughed. "That's what Brianna's been saying all week too. I don't want to go through that litany again, so if you want, Myeko, you can leave Alexander and Noelle and Dawn here while you and Leslie look for your dolls. I'm sure they'd complain if you insisted they come home with you now."

"I had the same idea in mind, but that's mostly because I didn't want Noelle and Alexander jeering at me for hunting down some dolls." They all laughed, and Myeko grinned and shoved her chair back. "Thanks, Maureen. Well, let's hit it, Leslie."

They stopped by the main house, where Myeko talked a blue streak at Roarke before Leslie could say a word, startling him enough to finally raise his hands in surrender. "Your reasons are of no concern to me," he said, half laughing, "but I would suggest to Leslie that she change her clothing before she endeavors to search your attic."

"Good idea," Leslie agreed. "Be right back." She hurried up the stairs.

Myeko watched her go, then offered, "We'll have lunch at my house, Mr. Roarke, so you don't have to worry about finding her."

"That's all quite well and fine," Roarke riposted humorously, "except that Christian and the triplets may wonder whether she's been kidnapped. You might stop at Christian's office on your way home and let him know so that he doesn't worry, or perhaps accuse me of secretly sending Leslie back in time for some fantasy."

Myeko giggled. "Sometimes I'd kill to do that. Spring break's been murder this year. The kids keep carrying on about how they've got nothing to do, so a bunch of us took ours over to the pool this morning. I figure if mine burn off enough energy, they'll leave me in peace for the rest of the day."

Roarke chuckled and said, "Several of my employees have expressed similar sentiments. I am terribly sorry that the amusement park has been closed all week, but the timing of the needed repairs and maintenance was unfortunate and I could do nothing to alter it."

"Safety first," Myeko said. "We get it, even if our kids don't. Well, thanks, Mr. Roarke." Leslie was just coming down the stairs, now dressed in a tank top and shorts. "Are you ready, friend?"

"Lead the way," Leslie said.

They did stop at Christian's office when Myeko recounted to Leslie what Roarke had said earlier. Christian blinked at his wife when she came in. "You weren't wearing that this morning. Are you off on some messy adventure?"

"You could say that," Leslie said with a small smile.

"She's gonna help me track down my Dawn dolls. There's a convention this weekend, and I want to find mine so I can go. They're probably up in the attic, and you know attics—dusty and musty and usually jam-packed with junk." Myeko grinned at him.

Christian eyed her a little blankly. "Oh? I didn't grow up with an attic, not as you describe it. Although I should say that the disused servants' quarters in the castle's south wing were certainly musty and dusty. I should know." He made a face at some memory and shook his head. "If your attic's as bad as that, then I hope the two of you survive this little excursion."

"Thanks, my love. I'm eating at Myeko's, so don't worry if I don't show up for lunch," Leslie said.

"It's that urgent, then? Tell me, exactly what are you looking for that warrants this?" he inquired with interest.

"Like I said, my Dawn dolls," Myeko explained.

"What are Dawn dolls?" asked Christian.

Myeko rolled her eyes, and Leslie snickered. "It has to do with that convention I told you about the other day. The little fashion dolls, about seventeen centimeters tall. I had a couple of them when I was a kid, and Myeko still has hers, or so she says." She tossed her friend a teasing glance. "I haven't thought of them in ages."

Christian smiled with comprehension. "Well, then, if it excites you that much, by all means, enjoy yourself. Let me know if you found your quarry, then, will you?" She nodded as he arose, and they exchanged a kiss before he smoothed her hair once and squeezed her shoulder. "Have a good time, my Rose."

"He handled you with kid gloves, didn't he," Myeko remarked as they settled back into the Enstads' car and Leslie turned it west out of the town square. "How come?"

"Oh, he knows why I was upset this morning, about it being Mom's seventy-fifth and all," Leslie said. "I think he's happy to see me enthusiastic about something. Have you been able to remember which dolls you had?"

"No," Myeko said, voice animated, "but I can tell you what dolls were in the line. There was Dawn herself, of course, and she had three pals originally, Angie, Dale and Glori. Dawn was blonde and blue-eyed, Angie had brown hair and eyes, Glori was a green-eyed redhead, and Dale was a knockout African-American. The next year they got some guy friends. Gary had black hair and blue eyes, Van was a hot African-American guy, and Ron had blue eyes and either brown or green hair—"

"_Green_ hair?" Leslie echoed, shooting her a startled look. For some reason she was reminded of an old movie she had once watched with her mother, entitled _The Boy With Green Hair_, though she couldn't remember who'd been in it.

"Well, it was supposed to be blond, but for some reason the paint came out this weird olive-type color. It's harder to find brown-haired Rons than green-haired ones. Anyway, they also got two more new buddies. Jessica was a stewardess—well, flight attendant now, I guess—with really short blonde hair and blue eyes, and then there was Longlocks, with hair down to her knees. Then there were these two dancing dolls, Fancy Feet and Kevin, both of them blonde."

"Fancy Feet!" Leslie blurted, beginning to laugh. "Longlocks I can see, but who came up with that silly name? It's not as if they were going to run out of names."

Myeko shrugged good-naturedly, laughing with her. "I know. I always privately called them by names I came up with for them. Can't remember what they were anymore, but I thought those names were dumb even then. Especially since I figured they could give Kevin a real name, how come they couldn't do the same for poor Fancy Feet? Well, anyway, finally, the last year, Dawn supposedly opened this model agency and got five more friends. They were Melanie, Maureen, Dinah, Daphne and Denise."

"Oh, you should've told Maureen there was a Dawn friend with her name," Leslie remarked. "She'd have gotten a kick out of that."

"They don't look anything alike," Myeko said. "Melanie and Maureen both had black ponytails and brown eyes. Denise had this blonde topknot ponytail, and Daphne had two red topknot sausage-curl ponytails. Dinah was my favorite model. She had long pale-blonde braids the exact color of Maureen's hair."

"Wow. That really is quite a crowd. I guess Dawn was a popular girl."

"Yeah, I gotta admit, if she'd been somebody I went to high school with, I probably would've hated her on principle. She'd have been that overachieving nuisance who was head cheerleader, class president, valedictorian _and_ homecoming queen." They both broke into laughter at that.

At the Okadas' home, which was empty and quiet save for the sounds of some of Nick's patients from the converted barn some hundred yards back from the house, Myeko pulled two cans of soda from the refrigerator and handed Leslie one. "Well, let's tackle Mount Everest. One nice thing about this house, it's old enough that it has a real attic, instead of a crawl space that you can access only through a trap door in the ceiling."

"That should save us having to negotiate a rickety pseudo-ladder," agreed Leslie, who remembered such attics from visiting school friends in Connecticut. "Just how much stuff do you think we're going to have to plow through?"

"Got me. Taro and Sayuri don't have attics, so we ended up getting all the junk they had no room for in their places. And of course, in Taro's case, that includes whatever crap his kids brought along when they moved here from Samoa. So there could be all sorts of junk up there. I just hope it's all labeled."

To their relief, a fair amount of it was; there were sealed boxes of all sizes strewn across the attic floor, many of them marked with someone's name. In most cases the names in question belonged to either Taro, Sayuri, or one of Taro's children. Those that remained were noticeably dustier, Leslie saw, and she chose one unmarked box at random and gingerly brushed away some of the dust with one hand. "Hey, did you think to bring up a box cutter? I have a feeling most of these are sealed, if not all of them. This one is."

"Oh crud, it never crossed my mind. Be right back." Myeko clattered back down the stairs, and Leslie heard the door bang against the second-story hallway all and footsteps rapidly fading from hearing. She grinned and set down her soda can, then picked at a corner of the sealing tape till she had worked away enough to grasp it with a finger and thumb and start pulling. To her amused surprise, when she had peeled away the tape and lifted the flaps, she saw inside what was unmistakably a wedding dress. By the time Myeko came back, she was laughing softly and shaking her head.

"What's so funny?" Myeko asked.

"Why are you keeping your wedding dress boxed up like this?" Leslie wanted to know. "I'd have thought you'd have it under dry-cleaning plastic in a closet."

"I hate having anything in a closet that I'm not wearing," Myeko admitted. "It just takes up space." She handed Leslie a box cutter, a roll of masking tape and a Sharpie marker, then peered at the dress thoughtfully. "But maybe I should make an exception in this case. It needs professional cleaning anyway. Might as well set that near the steps so I'll remember to carry it down with me."

Leslie grinned, knelt and printed MYEKO'S WEDDING GOWN in block letters on one of the flaps before using one foot to shove the box across the wooden floor. Leaving it at the top of the steps, she set about exploring more boxes; for a while there was only the sound of the box cutters slicing through tape, grunts of disappointment, and the ripping sound the new tape made as it was separated from its roll and used to re-seal boxes. Each time they revealed the contents of a box, they would write on the top what was inside.

There were still several stacks remaining in the corners when Leslie removed a small box from atop a large one marked NICK'S VET TEXTBOOKS, blew some dust off the top and slashed through the tape. Bending back the flaps, she folded aside some faded pink tissue paper and found herself staring at six small dolls lying haphazardly atop a layer of bubble wrap. "Myeko, I think I found them," she called.

Myeko scrambled across the attic and peered over Leslie's shoulder, then squealed with delight. "Hey, yeah, you did! Thanks, Leslie!"

"I'd forgotten what they looked like," Leslie admitted, looking on as Myeko took the box from her and cradled it in her arms, reaching in to lay the dolls face-up and side by side. They kept tumbling back onto one another, and she grunted and poked at the bubble wrap to flatten it, to no avail. "Let's take these downstairs."


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § - March 22, 2007

Leslie hefted up the wedding-dress box and carried it down in Myeko's wake, and left it in the entry foyer before following Myeko into the huge kitchen that Nick had spent so much time remodeling when he'd moved to the island and opened his vet practice. They settled down at the table, scattering their box cutters, markers and rolls of tape, and each took a sip of soda before Myeko began to lift each doll from the box, naming them as she did so. "Here we go, this one's Dawn."

Leslie took the doll as Myeko handed it across the table to her, and examined her in curiosity. The doll wore a slight smile and her dark-blue eyes gazed to her left, as if her attention were occupied by something truly alluring; she had waist-length golden hair with the faintest of reddish tints, exactly the color of Leslie's hair, and had real eyelashes. "Wow," Leslie commented finally. "Most Barbie dolls never had real eyelashes. I'd forgotten that."

"Yeah," Myeko said, looking on as Leslie examined the doll's clothing. Dawn was dressed in a white nylon strapless wedding gown overlaid by open-weave white lace with silver accents, with long sleeves and lace trim on the hem. There was a two-layer white tulle veil held in place by a wire headband trimmed with three white flowers. "I always thought Dawn was really cool. My only beef with her was that she had no Asian friends."

Leslie grinned and handed the doll back in exchange for the second one Myeko held out. This one had wide, almost circular blue eyes gazing to her right, and auburn hair that fell nearly to her knees. "Aha, this must be the fabled Longlocks." The doll was dressed in a gold floor-length gown with gold straps over her shoulders and a matching gold band around the waist.

"That's her. Look under her hair, on the back of her head," Myeko directed, and Leslie lifted the doll's long hair and found a letter and a couple of numbers engraved into the head. "That's the head mold. Every doll had at least two or three different head molds, especially Dale…she had dozens. So all the dolls have slightly different looks to them."

Leslie laughed. "They sure can't say that about Barbie. I'm starting to see why you're so interested in these dolls. Who's next?"

"This is Glori, with an I on the end." This doll had long red hair and bangs, and her green eyes gazed to the left with what looked to Leslie like a slightly haughty expression. The next two dolls were Dale, the African-American doll, whose pretty face and brown eyes were framed by a short, slightly bouffant hairdo that made Leslie think of the actress Diahann Carroll, and Gary, who was presented as Dawn's boyfriend. He had molded black hair and a muscular hard-plastic torso. The last doll was another Dawn.

"Poor thing, she's in sad shape," Leslie observed. Several plugs of the second Dawn's hair were missing and her face paint was badly faded, and her only attire was a tiny scrap of dirty green corduroy wrapped around the torso and held in place by an equally dirty piece of white string. "Did you have something against her?"

"Some girl I knew in elementary school gave her to me, I think," Myeko said slowly, scowling thoughtfully in an attempt to grasp the memory. "Yeah, I forgot her name, but she was one of the Air Force brats and didn't want her doll anymore; so right before her dad was transferred to Germany, she gave it to me. I decided she was Dawn's down-and-out twin sister, and I called her Debbie."

They both laughed and Leslie handed the dolls back to Myeko, who settled them lovingly back into their box. "Do you have clothes for them too?" Leslie asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Myeko mused, lifting the bubble wrap to see what was beneath. "Uh-huh, here they are, all those little doll dresses I had. Poor Gary, he had hardly any clothes outside of the ones he came wearing, so Mom sewed up some outfits for me to fit him. He was probably one of the best-dressed Gary dolls in Dawndom." She grinned as Leslie laughed again, and asked, "Do you remember yet which ones you had?"

Leslie closed her eyes, trying to think back. She had plenty of memories from Susanville and a surprising number of them from Connecticut as well, but for some reason it was very difficult for her to dredge up recollections of whatever dolls she had once owned. But she persevered, and after some mental prodding, her memory began to yield fuzzy, indistinct images of the two baby dolls she remembered owning as a little girl. Then a recollection of her sister Kristy using a Barbie doll to mother a smaller, similar doll popped into her head, and her eyes flew open as the memory exploded on her all at once. "Yes, I do! If I'm identifying them right, I had an Angie and a Jessica. I remember one with long dark hair and the other with really short blonde hair, like you mentioned."

"Sounds like them," Myeko said, nodding. "Well, listen, when you talk to Diane again, let me know, okay?"

"I'll do better than that, I'll get in touch with her now while we're both sitting here thinking about these dolls. Let me see if I can get hold of her—she gave me her cell-phone number." Leslie dug her own cell out of her purse and found a small slip of paper after some scrabbling around, then punched out the number and waited a moment.

"Hi, this is Diane," responded a voice after three rings. The woman sounded breathless, and Leslie wondered where she was.

"Hi, Diane, this is Leslie Enstad. Hope I didn't interrupt you at something."

"Oh, hi, Leslie! No, I'm just down here with a couple of my neighbors, setting up the main room at the old opera house for the convention. I'm really so grateful to you and Mr. Roarke for letting us use it. I've been getting e-mails right and left from attendees saying they just can't wait to get here."

"That's great. Listen, I've got another attendee for you. Remember Myeko Sensei, from school? Turns out she's a Dawn enthusiast, and she still has half a dozen dolls from her childhood. I'm over at her place right now and she just showed them to me. She wanted to know if there was room for her to come to the convention too."

"No kidding! Sure, tell her she's welcome, and by all means, bring her dolls to show off. We'd love to have her."

"Good, I'll let her know. Do you guys need any help getting things ready down there? I'm not doing anything…" She hesitated when Myeko made frantic little waving motions with both hands, and then giggled. "And neither is Myeko. We'll be glad to come help."

"Oh, we can use all the help we can get. That'd be wonderful, thanks, Leslie. It'll be great to meet Myeko. Tell her to bring her dolls with her, I'd like to see them."

"Okay, we'll see you over there." Leslie hung up and turned to Myeko. "Diane said you're welcome to come to the convention and bring your dolls. For that matter, she'd like to see them now, so why don't you grab the box and we'll go on over."

On their way out the door, Leslie's phone rang again and she snorted, to Myeko's amusement, before pulling it out again. "Hello."

This time it was Christian. "Hi, my Rose, where have you been? We expected you might be gone awhile, but we didn't think it would be this long."

"Our search took longer than we thought it would," Leslie explained. "Right now we're just on our way over to the old opera house to help Diane set up for the convention. Is Father looking for me, or what?"

"He was just wondering, since you've been gone almost three hours now. I'll tell him you're planning to help with that convention; seems to me that should count toward preparing for the weekend."

She laughed. "Me too. Thanks, my love. I'll be back before it's time for us to head for home, I promise."

"Well enough. So did you find Myeko's dolls?"

"Sure did. I finally remembered which ones I'd had, too. You know, I might see if Father objects to my dropping in on the convention come Sunday. Myeko's all excited about it, and I'm starting to get interested myself."

"Really? In that case, enjoy yourselves, both of you, and I'll let Mr. Roarke know what you're doing. Just try not to get so interested in those dolls that we have to start making room for another collection. The children have more than enough toys all over the house as it is, without our adding our own childhood toys out of a sense of misguided nostalgia."

"We can always put up another shelf on the wall," Leslie teased him, and giggled at the grunt he made in response. "I guess I'll see you this evening, then."

"All right. And my darling, I'm glad you've been able to find something to make you feel better. I worried about you this morning, and my employees were teasing me about it for quite a while. Especially Julianne, who seems to be in the throes of rapture over that DJ she met at the Valentine party last month and never stops talking about him. She used to be fun to work with; now she's a drag."

Leslie detected a teasing note in his voice, and grinned broadly when she heard a loud raspberry in the background. "I see Julianne has her usual articulate reply."

Christian laughed at that. "Exactly so. Okay, then, have a good time, and I'll see you this evening."

"What's going on? Someone worried about you?" Myeko asked with a grin as Leslie snapped the phone shut and they headed for the car.

"When it comes to me, my husband is a born worrier. Apparently he's satisfied that I'm feeling better. Well, come on, let's get over to the opera house."

When they let themselves in, they saw two native women setting up tables all the way around the perimeter of the main room; a third, with a froth of tarnished-gold curls held in check by a large hot-pink scrunchy, was spreading plain white clothes over each table. She looked up as Leslie and Myeko came in. "Hi, Leslie!"

"Hi, Diane, looks like you're making pretty good progress over here. This is Myeko Okada. Myeko, Diane Waialoka."

Diane and Myeko shook hands. "Nice to meet you," they said in unison, and Diane beamed at her. "I heard you've got Dawn dolls."

"Sure do. When Leslie mentioned this convention of yours, I just had to get in on it. Want to take a look?" Diane nodded, and she and Myeko proceeded to extract dolls from the box and talk in some depth about each one, before then following suit with all the little dresses that fit the dolls. Leslie looked on in silent curiosity, then began to glaze over when Diane and Myeko began to exchange arcane-sounding terms she didn't recognize, such as _oak_ and _reroot_. Attention diverted by a few colorful boxes displayed on some of the tables, she wandered away to get a closer look and found herself marveling at Diane's collection. She suspected Diane had at least one of every Dawn doll that had ever been manufactured, and when she found boxed examples of the Angie and the Jessica she'd had all those years ago, she lifted the boxes and carefully examined the dolls within. She nodded a little to herself; the memories were a little clearer now. A pang of nostalgia hit her and she suddenly wished she had somehow thought to pack those dolls in her duffel, the night of the fire. Cindy Lou would probably have made endless fun of her, she realized with the clarity of hindsight, but still…

"Hey, Leslie, you okay over there?" she heard Myeko call.

"Fine," she assured her friend without looking up.

A moment later both Myeko and Diane joined her. "I see you discovered my stash," Diane joked. "Getting interested in Dawn dolls? I'm always looking for new recruits."

Leslie chuckled. "Actually, I used to have these two as a child. I think they were victims of the fire that killed my family in California."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Diane said gently. "About both your family and the dolls. Hey, if you can drop in on the convention on Sunday, you might be able to buy them back, in a sense. Conventioneers are always bringing their extras to sell, and you could get lucky."

"I think I will," Leslie said with conviction. "I can just tell Father it's part of my weekend duties. I don't think he'll mind too much. Anyway, I've never been to any kind of convention, and I hear about _Star Trek_ conventions now and then. Sound pretty raucous."

Diane laughed. "Oh, we're not even remotely close to that big a scale. I think for every Dawn nut in the world, there are about twelve thousand _Trek_ fans."

"One of whom is Lauren," Myeko cracked and winked at Leslie. "I don't think she's been to a convention, but that's never stopped her wishing she could go." She turned back to Diane, and Leslie could see a light in her friend's eyes. "So you can really fix her up?"

"You bet," Diane said cheerfully. "Just leave her with me, and when you see her at the convention this weekend, you won't even recognize her. She'll be a whole new doll."

"Fabulous," Myeko said, looking overjoyed. "I can't wait. See you Sunday!"

"You sure you don't need any more help?" Leslie asked.

"We've got it pretty well in hand," Diane said. "Thanks for coming over, and I didn't mean to put you out of your way. I just didn't realize we'd gotten so far."

"That's okay," Leslie said and smiled. "It was fun checking out the dolls. I'll probably drop in on Sunday myself, if that's okay with you."

Diane nodded enthusiastically. "Sure, come right on in. See you then."

"What's this about fixing somebody up?" Leslie asked curiously as Myeko accompanied her out, toting her box. She could see there was one less doll inside it now.

Myeko grinned. "You know the raggedy-looking doll I got from that kid in third grade? It's possible to make her over to look like new. Diane does it—reroots and face paint and all sorts of stuff, plus she can do custom-made dolls."

Leslie stared at her in amazement. "Are you serious? What's a reroot?"

"That's when they take out the doll's original hair, or sometimes what's left of it, and they put in all new hair. They sell doll hair to people for just this kind of thing, and you can get it in any color you want—not just real hair colors but crazy punk-style ones too. And she can paint the doll's face so it looks brand-new. See, she cleans the doll first to get it in good shape for the makeover, and then she takes out the old hair, and if the original makeup is really bad, she just scrubs it off and starts all over. I asked her if she could make poor old Debbie look like an Asian. She said sure, no problem. She's even going to make an outfit for her. She can do that too, see…she can make over existing doll clothes, or sew entirely new ones. And get this, Leslie—she does this as a side business. She can redo a doll to look like anybody you want, from a mythological character to a celebrity to somebody you know, for either your own collection, or a present for someone else. She's got a website you ought to check out. I'm going to take a look at it as soon as I get home." She picked a business card out of her doll box and displayed it at Leslie.

"Oh," said Leslie, feeling a little overwhelmed, but now interested enough to want to take a look at the site herself. "Let me write that down."

"Oh, I grabbed an extra," Myeko said. "You take this one. It's going to be so cool to see that doll come Sunday."

"Hmm," murmured Leslie, then remembered something and peered oddly at her friend. "So what do oak trees have to do with it?"

Myeko stopped where she was and gave Leslie the blankest stare she'd ever seen. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You and Diane were talking earlier, and somebody mentioned the word _oak_. I was just wondering how trees are involved."

Myeko's face cleared and she laughed aloud. "Sorry, Leslie, but that was just too funny. No, it's not a tree. When we said _oak_, we really meant O-O-A-K, which Diane says is pronounced like the tree, but it stands for 'one of a kind'. Like the dolls she creates."

"Ohhh," Leslie mused, enlightened. "That sounds really interesting. Now you've got me going; I can't wait to see some of these dolls. Oh wow, Christian's gonna kill me if I get into this hobby. He said something about not needing to add our own toys to all the ones the kids have."

"Yeah, I can understand him, but these are more like collectors' items than toys. You can tell him I said so, and invite him to the convention if he thinks he'd like to see them."

"I'm sure he's going nowhere near any dolls," Leslie said playfully, and they both chuckled. "Well, I guess I better finish my duties for the day. Let me get you back home and I can get going."

"Hey, thanks for bringing me over…for that matter, thanks for telling me about the convention in the first place. It's gonna be a blast."

§ § § - March 25, 2007

"You mean she actually managed to get some work done yesterday?" Christian asked Roarke playfully on Sunday morning. "Ever since we went home Thursday evening, it's been nothing but Dawn dolls. You should have seen her that evening after supper, Mr. Roarke. She usurped my usual place at the computer and spent at least two hours looking at some website about those dolls."

"Hey, you're around computers twenty-four hours a day; you can afford to give up a couple to me," Leslie riposted, making them both laugh. "I thought I'd drop in on the convention sometime this afternoon, Father. Diane invited me, and it does sound like fun."

"Ach…who ever would have thought that at her age she'd suddenly be interested in dolls again," Christian said teasingly. "I can see it now…a fragile collection we'll have to protect from our three little marauders."

"Oh, for fate's sake," Leslie said, suddenly exasperated for no reason she could think of. "Come on, Christian, it's just a few dolls. I don't even know if anyone's going to have the ones I lost all those years ago. I'm just going to look around, say hello, talk to Diane a little, maybe…nothing huge." She turned back to her plate and began to diligently clear it, without looking at either her father or her surprised and slightly bewildered husband.

"You may go if you like, Leslie," Roarke said, as serene as ever. "If you can be back here at about four o'clock to help me with terminating the fantasies, you may spend the day there if you wish. And please tell Ms. Waialoka that I hope her convention is a success."

"I will," Leslie said softly. "I'm finished…I'd like to be excused." Roarke agreed, and she arose and dropped a kiss on each of her children's heads. "Be good for Grandfather and Haruko. Mommy'll see you later."

"Where you go, Mommy?" Karina asked.

"Just to talk to some people, sweetie. Have a fun day." Leslie smoothed the little girl's hair before starting away across the veranda.

She paused at the top of the steps when she heard footsteps hurrying after her, and looked around at Christian, who stopped as soon as she met his gaze, an uncertain look about him. "Whatever I said, my Rose, I'm sorry," he offered hesitantly.

Leslie sighed a little and relented with a smile, going to him and hugging him. "I'm the one who ought to be apologizing. I guess I'm still in a strange mood and I'm taking it out on you. I'm not even sure what got into me this year. Those milestone birthdays must be real killers, huh?"

Christian chuckled. "Yes, I suspect so. You might remember that I was in a bit of a mood myself last month on what would have been Mother's 90th birthday. I just thought you might have gotten past it by now, but perhaps those dolls have prolonged it."

"That might be it," Leslie said slowly. "I had an awful time trying to remember even playing with them, and I…I think it scared me. I think I was afraid my memories of Mom would fade the same way the ones about the dolls did."

Christian squeezed her tightly. "Oh no, never that, my Rose. Dolls are one thing, but your mother is quite something else. Memories do have a natural way of fading to some extent over time, but I don't think you or I will ever have to worry about forgetting our mothers. They were too important to us, and the most important memories stay with you always, even if they seem less vivid than they once were."

She closed her eyes and tightened her own hold on him, smiling to herself. "I think you're right. That's beautiful, my love."

"Oh, I'm merely speaking from personal experience. I realized it after you and I had that once-in-a-lifetime chance to talk to Mother and Father about all the things that were bothering me. I had a string of dreams all night long that night, bringing back all sorts of memories I thought I'd long since forgotten." He chuckled soundlessly again, then gave her one more squeeze and released her. "You go and enjoy yourself, and I hope you do find the dolls you once had. We'll find a safe place to display them, however many you find yourself coming home with. Solemn promise." He lifted a pair of crossed fingers and grinned.

Leslie giggled. "Maybe I'll surprise myself. Thanks, my love. Have a good day." They kissed each other, and he lingered there, watching her get into the car; she waved at him and he returned it before retreating to the breakfast table. She pulled out and headed down to the Ring Road, remembering as she drove all the amazing creations Diane had photographed and posted on her website. There were all sorts of character dolls there—everything from Romeo and Juliet to Batman and Robin, superheroes, mythical characters, dolls dressed for holidays, television-show characters, celebrities, even cartoon characters. One doll had been redone to look like its owner, which had really amused her. It had been fascinating to see all these imaginative flights of fancy, and she wondered if Diane would have any on display at the convention.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § - March 25, 2007

There were two or three rovers and jeeps parked in front of the old opera house, along with a fair number of bikes and even a few mopeds from the island's rental service. Leslie found a spot for her own car and parked, then made her way inside, surprised at the noise and laughter that came from within. Underneath the constant noisy chatter she could hear 70s songs being played. Hesitantly she poked her head in through the doors and blinked in amazement at what she saw.

Women in a surprising range of ages milled around the room; she wasn't sure how many there were, but she was willing to bet on at least forty. There were even some girls there who had clearly been born long after the doll's heyday. Along with the tables she had seen ringing the room's perimeter a few days before, there were now three large round tables set up in the middle of the room, and one of them was occupied by a group of four or five women who were frantically working with what appeared to be tiny, colorful scraps of cloth. The table was strewn with needles, spools of thread, ribbons, packets of sequins and all kinds of other odds and ends; each woman had a doll in front of her.

All the display tables were filled with dolls, and not just Dawn dolls but fashion dolls of all kinds, from Barbie to Bratz and everything in between. Many were boxed; equally as many weren't. There were baby dolls, porcelain dolls, rag dolls and even some stuffed animals here and there. The bar in the room had been stocked, but Leslie could see even from here that only soft drinks were being served, along with potato chips, cookies and other snacks. "Wow," she murmured aloud, overwhelmed.

Just then someone happened to glance in her direction and recognized her. "Mrs. Enstad!" the woman exclaimed and hurried over to her. "Diane said you might be coming over, but we didn't think you'd be here this early."

"My father told me to go ahead and spend the day here," Leslie explained, "although I have to leave around three-thirty to get back to my job."

"No problem. That's a lot longer than we thought. You'll get to be in on all the fun," the woman said, beaming. "My name's Carol Crosbie. Come on, I'll take you over to Diane. She'll help you figure out what's going on around here."

Leslie willingly followed Carol over to a table beside the bar, where she recognized Diane standing there behind two long tables filled with dolls, both boxed and loose, all of them Dawn or similar-looking dolls. She also had quite a few boxed Dawn-doll fashions, which she had arranged lying flat in front of the standing boxes and the loose dolls held in place by small doll stands. She lit up when she saw Leslie. "Hi, Leslie! Glad you could make it! Thanks for bringing her over, Carol."

Carol chuckled. "Poor thing, she looked completely lost. I figured she needed to talk to the boss lady."

Diane grinned and said, "Yeah, I wanted to talk to Leslie too. Thanks again." Carol winked at Leslie and hurried away, and Diane turned her grin on Leslie. "So. Welcome to my Dawn convention. Did you just get here?"

"Yeah, I walked in maybe three minutes ago. I had no idea there'd be so many people here…or so many dolls!"

Laughing, Diane nodded. "I know what you mean. I was the same way at my first convention. Well, do you want to wander around and take a look at everything, or would you prefer a guided tour?"

Leslie thought for a moment. "Well, I think I'd prefer browsing on my own. That way I can maybe find the dolls I'm looking for."

"Oh yeah, that's right—you wanted to replace your old dolls. Which ones did you have? I can lead you to some girls who're selling."

Surprised, Leslie told her, and Diane beamed. "Angie and Jessica! Hey, those are easy. Come with me, I know who's got tons of extra dolls, and they're all in great shape." She slipped out from behind her display tables and led Leslie down the east side of the room till they had reached a display that looked to Leslie as if the entire factory that had once manufactured the doll had been relocated here. This woman had so many dolls that they took up four tables, and even then they were distinctly crowded. Diane grinned broadly. "Kinda takes your breath away, doesn't it? This is Sharon Endicott. She's been collecting Dawn since day one, when she first came out. Sharon, this is Leslie Enstad."

"Yeah, Mr. Roarke's daughter," said the somewhat heavyset woman behind the tables. She grinned at Leslie and extended a hand over the tops of the many boxes. "Great to meet you. Diane mentioned you used to have Jessica and Angie."

"Years ago," Leslie said with an uncertain nod, feeling shy for the first time in many years. "My gosh, I had no idea one person could have so many dolls."

Sharon's grin got wider. "Hey, you should only see what I left at home." She and Diane both laughed, and Leslie giggled a little. "Angies and Jessicas, I got. I need to talk to Diane for a minute here. Why don't you just take a look and pick out the ones you want, and take your time. Don't feel like you have to be in a hurry." Leslie nodded, and Sharon turned to Diane and began to talk about something related to the convention. Glancing over her shoulder with a half-formed hope of seeing Myeko somewhere in the mob, Leslie moved to the end of Sharon Endicott's enormous display and began to search through the dozens of dolls on display. As with Diane, Sharon had loose dolls, boxed dolls, dolls needing repairs, and clothing in every conceivable condition. Nearly everything was for sale. Her prices were so reasonable that Leslie was tempted to pick out dolls she hadn't had as a child, but for the moment she forcibly restrained herself, reminding herself that she could always expand on her brand-new collection as she went along.

"Hey, you made it after all," she heard Myeko's voice exclaim from nearby, and with a rush of relief she looked up and grinned at her friend.

"Yeah, I did. Did you see all this? I never thought anyone's collection could get so big. It's mind-blowing."

Myeko laughed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I already bought another half-dozen dolls from her. You need some help? I presume you're looking for Angie and Jessica."

Leslie nodded, and together they began to peruse the many dolls for sale. After a few minutes Myeko plucked up an Angie on a doll stand. "Hey, this one really looks good. She's got on her original dress and she even has shoes." Myeko tipped the doll almost upside-down and squinted at her, then grinned. "She's got her undies too. Here."

Leslie took the doll from Myeko and examined her with a sense of wonder, and out of nowhere a rush of nostalgic memory flooded her. The doll was in good condition, with her face paint vivid and her hair full and shiny. Angie had brown eyes and waist-length dark-brown hair, about the color of Christian's hair; Leslie remembered having heard her listed as "Dawn's best friend". _Maybe I should get a Dawn too,_ she thought before she could stop herself, and suddenly began to understand what drove all these convention attendees.

"I think I'll get this one," Leslie decided and looked a little helplessly at Myeko. "I'm starting to get sucked in. All of a sudden I want more than just Angie and Jessica."

Myeko smirked. "Face it, friend, you're hooked. Come on, let's dig up a Jessica."

After inspecting and rejecting two or three dolls, Leslie found the perfect Jessica; this doll was dressed in a bright-orange minidress with a white vinyl belt, and had a matching hat and shoes. The doll's face paint was as vivid as if she were brand-new; and she had a blonde chin-length pageboy haircut and aquamarine eyes. "This one's perfect. I think my original Jessica had a light-green dress, but that's okay, I don't care what color it is."

"Good for you," Myeko said. "So now that you've got your original two, are you getting any more? And if I were you, I wouldn't pay any attention to whatever Christian says. If he can fill your house with computer stuff, the least he can do is let you collect some Dawn dolls, and they don't even take up that much room."

Leslie laughed. "Christian teased me a little, but in the end he just told me to have a good time. So I think I'll indulge in some more dolls. I'd forgotten how cute they are. Now I see how they can be addicting."

"What'll you do with them once you get them home?" Myeko asked.

Leslie shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was kind of thinking about putting them on display in the curio cabinet Christian inherited from his mother."

"Hmm, then you're gonna need doll stands, especially if they're loose. Y'know, this could run you some fairly serious money. I hope you're equipped."

"Money?" Leslie peered dubiously at her, still holding the two dolls she had chosen. "If I have to spend more than fifty dollars here, I might just stick with these two and call it a day. I'm not as into this as you and all these other women are."

Myeko thought about it for a minute or two, then glanced casually over her shoulder and did a quick double take. "Oh, hold it, Diane's here. Let's ask her what she thinks might be the best thing for you to do. Hey, Diane!"

Diane and Sharon both turned to face her, greeted her with smiles and exclaimed over the dolls Leslie had chosen. "Yeah, they do look good, don't they? You keep your dolls in great shape, Sharon," Myeko said with enthusiasm, making Sharon beam. "Say, Diane, Leslie was thinking about adding some more dolls to her collection, but I told her she'll have to get doll stands and she wasn't planning to spend a whole lot of money. If you were just starting a Dawn collection, what would you do?"

Diane thought for a minute. "Well, I'd probably do what Leslie did—look for the ones I had as a kid. Then I might go with some of the basic dolls that came out during the first year, like Dawn and the other ones. Were you considering getting any of the guys or the models, Leslie?"

Leslie frowned at the dolls in her hands, then swept her gaze across the seeming miles of merchandise Sharon had on offer. "Well, I don't know…it depends on what they cost. I told Myeko I'm starting to see how you could get addicted, but I'm not _that_ deep in yet."

Diane and Sharon both laughed. "Understandable," Diane assured her. "Well, in that case, if you're going to keep it simple, I'd get Dawn, Glori and Dale, and maybe the guys too. The models are a little harder to find, so if you're really not into it as much as the rest of us, you might want to skip the rarer ones."

"At least," Sharon put in, "till you decide whether you want to keep collecting or just stick with the ones you've got."

"I see," murmured Leslie. "Well, maybe if I could look over what else you have and see what kind of prices I'm looking at, I can decide from there."

An hour or so passed with Myeko and Leslie carefully checking over Sharon's dolls, much to the amusement of Sharon and the constant excited advice of Diane. A few other women gathered around now and then to offer advice, till by lunchtime, Leslie really looked at what she had just paid for and discovered she now owned eight dolls: the original two she had had as a child, along with Dawn, Glori the redhead, Dale the African-American, Gary the boyfriend, Ron the male friend, and—to Myeko's enormous envy—the model doll named Dinah, with blue eyes and pale-blonde braids. "Oh, Leslie, you really scored with her. She's not easy to get," she said wistfully.

"Well, why don't you snag yourself one while you're here?" Leslie offered. "I know Sharon's got more than one. I couldn't resist those braids."

Myeko laughed. "Maybe I should." She glanced toward the bar and made a few smacking noises with her lips, pulling a face. "Right now I want to get something to drink. It's so dry in here."

Another half-hour later, Myeko had managed to buy Sharon's last remaining Dinah, mournfully conceding that she had to stop making purchases. "Nick'll kill me. He told me no more than fifty bucks, and I've already overshot that by more than ten."

"That seems kind of unfair, holding you to a limit," Leslie teased. "I guess he's thinking you might need some cash for bill-paying."

"Yeah, isn't there always something to spoil it?" Myeko grumbled, but with good humor. "Well, that's okay, they have prizes, so I might win something cool for my collection. Oh, and by the way, check this out. Doesn't she look fabulous?" She reached into the canvas tote she carried and extracted a doll with long straight black hair and distinctly Asian face paint. "This is my old raggedy Dawn. No more down-and-out twin sister. I've renamed her Hanayo." The doll was clad in a beautifully detailed miniature kimono in many bright colors, with a black satin obi around the waist and even miniature _geta_ shoes.

Leslie scrutinized the doll with amazement. "That's incredible. I really admire people who can do that kind of stuff. It'd be impossible for me. It's beautiful!"

"Yeah, Diane did an amazing job on her. I think my other dolls are jealous." They laughed and Myeko carefully slipped the doll back into her tote. "So do you have to leave anytime soon? I mean, I hope Mr. Roarke doesn't mind your being here."

"No, he told me I can stay till three-thirty. I told Diane that too, so she doesn't wonder what happened to me all of a sudden for the last hour or so. So what kind of prizes do they have? Sounds like fun."

"Usually they're dolls, or doll-related things sometimes, like one-of-a-kind dresses. Actually, all the convention attendees get a goodie bag with some great stuff inside. I got in too late to get one myself, but I don't care—I've had such a fabulous time, who really needs a goodie bag? Besides, with Diane right here on the island, I can go get something whenever I want to. And Sharon sells stuff online too."

Leslie glanced at the DJ booth, which stood empty. "Pretty amazing, all right. Well, I guess I'll grab something to drink. Do you think they've got sandwiches over at the bar?"

Through the afternoon Leslie and Myeko watched a few contests, the first of which Leslie had walked in on—the women at the table with all the sewing paraphernalia. They had been trying to see who could produce the most creative outfit in a given amount of time; the winner got a prize from Sharon's enormous stash, and several attendees asked her to make duplicates of her outfit for them. Another contest involved the best doll makeover, for which there were sixteen entrants; the winner received free makeover supplies. The dolls had been made over in advance of the convention, to allow time for plenty of detail, and all sixteen of them were up for sale after the contest ended. Leslie gave in to temptation and bought one that looked like a Scandinavian bride doll.

The creator of the doll beamed when she mentioned this. "Yeah, that was the idea. It's a bride from Lilla Jordsö."

That made Leslie stare at her in astonishment. "Wait till I show this to Christian! He won't be able to say I blew off a day on frivolous pursuits now."

"Don't forget to save some cash for doll stands," Myeko reminded her. "You're gonna need them, with that collection of yours growing like crazy."

With the afternoon winding down, Leslie kept an eye on her watch. It was about three-fifteen, and she and Myeko had been sitting at an empty table fitting stands on their dolls, when the staticky clicking of a sound system filled the room and they turned to face the DJ booth, along with everyone else. Diane was there, fiddling with the microphone. "Hi there, everybody. Hasn't this been a great convention?" This met with a resounding cheer and a lot of raised fists, some clutching dolls. "Yeah, I agree! Especially since it's here on the most beautiful tropical island in the world." That, too, got a cheer, and Leslie and Myeko grinned at each other. "Well, I just wanted to say thanks to everybody for coming, and I also wanted to give a special thanks to Leslie Enstad, for giving us the go-ahead along with Mr. Roarke to have the convention here. And with that in mind, before I forget—Leslie, would you come up here?"

Surprised and hoping she wouldn't have to make a speech of some sort, Leslie got to her feet and crossed the room to the DJ booth. Diane grinned at her. "Thanks for coming to the convention, Leslie. I see you've got yourself some dolls."

Leslie laughed. "I guess it was just too hard for me to resist, once I found the ones I had when I was a kid. I can see why everyone here's so enthusiastic."

"Yeah, exactly. It's just too much fun revisiting our childhoods and doing great things for our favorite doll…isn't it, everybody?" Again there was cheering. "Listen, Leslie, as a big thank-you for the use of the opera house, I've got something for you. Maybe I should say three somethings. Here." She gestured, and for the first time Leslie saw the plain white box sitting on top of the control board. "These are for you."

Leslie shot her a startled look. "That wasn't necessary…"

"No, but I wanted to do it, so please don't get all modest," Diane begged gently. She smiled, an anticipatory look about her. "Come on, aren't you curious about what they are?"

"Yeah, come on, Leslie, open 'em up!" Myeko yelled playfully from the floor, prompting the rest of the crowd to echo her, cheering Leslie on.

Laughing, Leslie gave up. "I can hardly resist that kind of encouragement." She picked up the box and lifted the lid, then gasped at what she saw therein. There lay three dolls; one was dressed in a perfect replica of Christian's white royal dress uniform; the second was outfitted and made up to look like Roarke; and the third was Leslie herself, dressed in a detailed copy of Leslie's own weekend white suit, even down to the wedding ring on the left hand. Speechless, Leslie gawked at them.

"What is it?" shouted Myeko impatiently.

Leslie hiccupped and almost choked, then swallowed hard and turned to Diane. "They're beautiful! Did you do these all yourself?"

Diane nodded. "I'm glad you like them."

"I love them! Oh, you should see them, everyone…they look like Father and me and Christian. They're incredible." The crowd began to applaud, and Myeko bounded out of her chair and over to the DJ booth to get a good look.

"Holy paradise," she breathed, astounded. "Wow, this is amazing. They look really gorgeous, Diane. I knew you were good, but man…"

"Thank you, Diane, they're fabulous. I can't wait to show them to Father and Christian," Leslie said, and to her own surprise, she hugged Diane. "They'll be the focal point of my collection, even if I never get any more dolls to add to it."

"You're sweet, Leslie. I'm really glad you like them so much. Hey, look, I know you're busy all the time, between helping Mr. Roarke grant fantasies, and having triplets to run around after. But I was kind of hoping we could stay in touch after this. I used to wish I could be friends with you in high school, but I was a really shy thing back then and too afraid to approach you."

Leslie made a face, feeling her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. "You're not the first one who's said something like that. But just because I was Father's ward shouldn't have made me untouchable. I sometimes wished I had more friends to hang out with, when Myeko here and the other girls couldn't come over."

"Yeah, we always said, the more the merrier," Myeko put in, grinning. "My number's 573. Why don't you call up sometime and we'll all get together in town?"

"I think I will," Diane agreed, beaming. "It really sounds like fun. Thanks, Leslie."

"Thank _you,"_ Leslie replied softly. "For more than you know."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § - March 25, 2007

"She really put a lot of work into that doll," Christian remarked in amazement, watching Roarke examine the six-inch version of himself. The doll was quite detailed, with a jacket, vest and shirt, pants, and even the chain to Roarke's gold pocket watch, with a tiny gold watch disk peering out of a glued-on pocket flap on the vest. Leslie had discovered that the jackets on both Roarke's doll and her own could be removed. The Roarke doll even had real hair, mostly black with swirls of gray mixed in.

"The lady is very talented," Roarke agreed, smiling. "I daresay she made me look younger than I actually am." They all laughed.

"Facially that doll may not really be me," Leslie observed, still studying her own miniature doppelganger, "but that's okay—the hair is the exact style and color of mine, and the detail of the outfit is amazing." The jacket was trimmed, just as Leslie's real one was, with black lapels, black pocket flaps and even three black buttons on each side, with black trim at the cuffs; and the black belt around the doll's waist matched the real one. There was even a necklace, though in the doll's case it was a simple gold ring; Diane had apologized for being unable to quite duplicate Leslie's ruby heart necklace, but Leslie was so captivated by the doll that she didn't care a bit.

"As far as I'm concerned, you and that doll are both perfect," Christian said, then gave his own replica a critical look. "I see there's not quite as much work in mine." His own doll still had molded hair, but the uniform was a faithful representation of his real-life white military dress uniform.

"Diane said she was running out of time and wanted to finish before the convention," Leslie explained. "Besides, according to her, the doll looks a lot like you anyway."

"Not so much," Christian mused, making Leslie and Roarke grin at each other. "Still, I do think it's a very nice touch. She really didn't have to create a doll for me, since I had nothing to do with giving her permission to have her convention here."

"In which case," Leslie scolded him, "don't complain."

"What dolls were these originally?" her husband asked.

Leslie frowned slightly, trying to remember what Diane had said. "Let's see, mine was originally a Dawn doll. Yours is the Prince Charming doll from a six-inch Disney fairytale line and would have been the Cinderella doll's escort. Diane just embellished the existing tunic a bit and added some white pants. And Father's doll came from another six-inch line called Fairytale Favorites, from the 90s, and used to be Pocahontas' friend John Smith."

Roarke laughed. "A fortuitous choice. I can see some of the shape of my own face in the doll's. Yes, I am very impressed, Leslie. These dolls will add a great deal to your new collection. Where do you plan to display them?"

"Well, I was thinking about the curio cabinet," Leslie said, with a sidelong look at Christian. "The one your mother left us, my love."

"Aha," Christian pounced, a light in his hazel eyes that had Leslie laughing. "I knew you were going to insist on space in there. Well, there are only a dozen dolls altogether. If you don't decide to enlarge the collection any further, I think I can clear out the top shelf of the cabinet so you can put the dolls in there. At any rate, since the cabinet can be locked, it will keep the triplets out of it and nothing will happen to them." He noticed the shoes on the Leslie doll. "Especially tiny accessories like shoes or jewelry—I know you'd leave a jet trail through the ceiling if any of those things went missing."

Leslie grinned good-naturedly. "Yeah, I probably would. Well, it's been quite a weekend. I never thought I'd end up feeling so much better about things."

"What things do you mean?" Roarke asked. "I was aware that you were a little low because of your mother's birthday several days ago, but I didn't realize you had managed to bring yourself to such depths."

"You make it sound as if I were suicidal," Leslie teased. "Not really, but since it would have been Mom's seventy-fifth, it just seemed more…I don't know, more significant. Diane's convention, and then Myeko's hearing about it and deciding to find her own dolls, helped to exacerbate that some. But it's funny. Since I found the ones I used to have, and added all these other ones to them, I'm just having a happy nostalgia about them. Now that I look at them, they're bringing back memories of a happy time in my life. I played with these dolls mostly during times when Michael was less of a pain in the behind than he became later on. He was never loving, exactly, but he wasn't quite as abrasive till the fire in Connecticut." She frowned with sudden recollection. "In fact, I remember taking some time to throw some of my favorite things into a bag that night, before I left the house. The dolls were among them. The next day, when Michael realized what I'd done and that the twins had done it too, he threw a screaming fit. He said if we hadn't stopped to save our junk, we might have been able to save _mormor_. It gave me such a complex that I put the dolls away. They didn't survive the California fire, and I eventually forgot about them, till this week."

Roarke's face registered sympathy, and Christian hugged her. "You only did what any child would probably do," he said, "you _and_ your sisters. Besides, you know it was part of the curse. Like it or not, even if you hadn't bothered saving anything, your _mormor_ would still have become a victim."

Leslie nodded. "I know that now, and I don't feel guilty about it anymore." She took a look at the full collection lying atop Roarke's desk, and suddenly smiled. "Thank you for giving me the okay to collect some dolls, my love…and Father, thanks for giving Diane permission to have the convention in the first place."

Roarke smiled, with that gently knowing look she'd seen so often over the years. "It's all a part of your growing up, my child. For we all grow up throughout our lifetimes, not just during the passage from adolescence to majority. And not only have you gained some new knowledge of yourself, you've also gained a new friend. Any venture that has such positive results can only be a good one." He handed her the Roarke doll. "Now take these home and enjoy them with a fully clear conscience, will you?"

"We sure will," Leslie said, returning his grin.

* * *

_If you'd like to see the dolls that Leslie received from Diane, just take a look at my MagicSwede1965 avatar photo! Originally these dolls were indeed the same dolls that Leslie tells Roarke and Christian they were in the story. For the real-life dolls, I myself made the alterations to the tunic of the Christian doll, by adding the red-and-gold ribbon sash, and took the white pants from another male doll. The Roarke and Leslie dolls were skillfully created by a friend of mine in the United Kingdom who specializes in creating unique character dolls, made over from two dolls that are part of my collection._

_As I mentioned previously, next up is likely to be a flashback compilation, consisting of more adapted episodes from the original series. I'll get to them as soon as possible following my wedding on April 6, so stay tuned!_


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